The Love My Father Showed
by Norbit
Summary: Tawnypelt leaves ThunderClan, not for power or for gain, but because she feels she can no longer call it home. She goes to join her father, Tigerstar, who she remembers only from a distant memory as a tiny kit, and has convinced herself she loves him.
1. The Love My Father Showed

**A/N: **Alright, it's Tawnypelt! This is actually based off a much older piece of mine I found in a notebook recently. I thought the concept was good, but I rewrote the fic to have better grammar and diction. I admit I haven't read the first series in a while, so some of these details might be slightly off. Please tell me if I got any of the events in the book wrong!

**The Love My Father Showed**

When I was a tiny, tiny kit, not even old enough to see, my entire world was the mingled smell of the nursing queens and the press of my brother's body up against me. I have distant, vague memories of that time, all of them the ghost of sensations. I can remember the feel of soft ferns beneath me in the nursery nests. I can remember the smell of milk and the softness of my mother's fur, and the rough, sharp sensation of her tongue over my thin pelt. These earliest memories have no sound or sight; I was far too small to have begun to see and hear. On their own, these recollections are of little interest. Most cats have some memory of this time, even if it is only a half-dream of sensations. But for me? Ah, for me, these memories are the only recollection I have of my father before his exile. I can remember his smell in my dreams. He stood over me (I do not know how I recall this, since I was blind at this time in my life) and he leaned down and began to groom my fur. After a while, he shifted to groom my brother, and then he left. I do not know if my brother remembers this, but for a very long time while I was very young, I clung to this memory as proof that I did have a father.

I remember when I was an older kit, one who could run about and play, how confused I was that other kits' fathers visited, but ours never did. I clung to the memory of that scent and the feel of that tongue as an anchor in a situation that I did not even approach understanding of. My mother never spoke about my father. And for a long time, neither did my brother or I; we were very young, but somehow we understood that to question our father's absence was to break an unspoken barrier between our mother and something terrible and dark.

When I first became an apprentice, I remember wondering about my father more. From how cats looked at us, and acted, I feared that he had done something terrible, something beyond cruel. Oh, I can remember lying awake at night in the apprentices' den, sick with fear and confusion over the mystery of my father's crimes. When Darkstripe told me and my brother that our father lived in ShadowClan, we were entranced. Why is it such a wonder that we tried to leave, that we let him sneak us out of camp, that we were swallowed up by his tales of a father's love, of a warm and gentle cat torn unfairly from the cats and Clan he loved the most. We were young – too young, again, to understand the reality of what that meant. Fireheart _enlightened_ us. That hurt, it really did. I had not imagined a conspiracy of murder, of betrayal surrounding my father. It hurt me, the apprentice, but it hurt, me, the kit whose father groomed her with love in his eyes even more. The words we heard unsaid behind the story we were told – that he was a murderer, a traitor, an exile – destroyed the silly nursery-dreams of a kit who wanted to think her father was merely busy, busy enough to not come to the nursery.

Those were dark days. I lived with the knowledge of what my father had done, and I saw reflections of the hatred against him pressed up to the faces of my whole family, the three of us who had done no crime but be too close to the wrong cat. These actions had been there the entire time I was growing up, but for the first time, I saw them for what they truly were. Fireheart took my brother as an apprentice because he hated and feared our father, and saw my father in him – saw my father in his fur and his claws and his eyes, not in his actions or his soul. And the other cats, oh I heard their whispers of how we would turn out just like father, and I hated them. I hated them for hating father and for hating me. I loved my father, or at least I thought I did at the time, even though they all called him a traitor, because all kits are meant to love their fathers, or so the nursery queens would tell all us scrawny kits. My Clan watched me and held me away, and I was drowning in nothing at all, breaking apart from the isolation of my love and of my thoughts.

And so I left. I had planned to leave, down in my heart, in the dusk as I lay awake in the apprentice's den, thought my way through the territory to my father far away. I told no cat what I desired – my brother did not see our father the same way, even at my young age I could tell that, and my mother, I saw, hated my father with a broken, desperate passion, the passion of a cat who has lost something she loved with all her heart and knows that she will never, ever get it back. The loneliness, the sensation I felt of_ alone_, and what in the end drove me to seek out my father, would, I think have been less severe had one of them shared my feelings. But I was alone, and I knew it. I knew that no cat in ThunderClan, none of the loyal warriors and apprentices and elders and queens, not my mentor, not my brother, not my mother understood that because I felt that all of my Clan hated me, that I fell back on loving my father, the only cat who had never, ever hurt me. I realize now that that was only true because I had never seen him, and knew him only from the single memory of his warm scent and loving touch, a memory that obscured all other thoughts and left me blind to everything but that love – love that had grown far too thin in the Clan that I no longer felt I could call home.

And, like I said, I left. I got up one day, early before anyone was awake in the camp, and slipped out into the forest beyond. I walked quickly, quietly, with a sense of direction and purpose and caution (for I still remembered the fate of my half-brother, Swiftpaw, and I shivered with fear at the shadows) but I reached the edge of the territory soon enough. I stepped over the edge, onto the Thunderpath, so quiet and undisturbed at this time of day, like an adder still and cold, its fangs hidden from plain sight. I stepped over the edge away from ThunderClan, and my brother, and my family, and I was happy for the first time in a long time, because I was that much closer – one line, one border, one wall – to the father I had convinced myself I loved.


	2. The Love I Felt For Shadows

**A/N: **I decided to write two short follow-ups to The Love My Father Showed, because I started to wonder about just what Tawnypelt's acceptance into ShadowClan was like. This is written in a somewhat different style from that story, since I felt that dialogue was necessary to get the memory across properly (since this is about a much shorter span of time than the first chapter, lol). Like it, this is proofread by me, but unbeta'ed. Last but not least, I fixed a canon mistake (Darkstripe not trying to smuggle Tawnykit and Bramblekit out of ThunderClan) in the first chapter. However, I kept Tawnypelt not meeting with Tigerstar before leaving, because I felt it emphasized the idea of her assuming her father's love, when he really didn't feel it.

**The Love I Felt For Shadows**

The ground was marshy and wet in ShadowClan territory; I remember that much. Oh, it was so _different _from moss or leaves or stone or the rough hard rock of the Thunderpath, the only other sensations I had ever felt beneath my paws. The border markings were fierce and pungent in my mind, in my mind marking something wild and pure that ThunderClan lacked and that I was sure I would find again if I could only see my father. No, do more than see my father – stay with him, live with him, and prove to him that I was loyal and loving, that I had not been swayed by the words of his former Clanmates, that I was worthy of his love, as I had been so many moons ago as a tiny kit against my mother's fur. I was swept away in my visions. Of my father looking proudly down at me from his leader's post. Of my father showing me advanced warriors, like some of the other fathers did when their kits became apprentices. Of all the things I had longed for so badly, and that I was only now seeing as I realized how close I was to regaining all the things that I had missed in my short life.

I was snapped out of my hopeful daydreams by an angry yowl. "You! ThunderClan freak! What are you doing in the territory of Sh-_Tiger_Clan?" On top of a log some distance away, glaring down at me from his perch, was a ShadowClan warrior, one of the ones they point out to new apprentices at Gatherings and tell them never to cross – the big ones with the wild eyes and pelts criss-crossed with scars, the signs of many battles that had, ultimately, been won. I froze, suddenly struck by fear of my fate if he should attack. Looking back, I still don't know. I heard about the fate of Stonefur, and I don't know.

"Jaggedtooth," I heard another cat, a she-cat, meow from out of sight, "Let her explain. Last time I checked, ThunderClan didn't send lone _kits _into enemy territory.

At that, I remembered my voice. "I'm not a _kit!_ I've been an apprentice for _moons_!" As I realized how that sounded, I hastened to add, "But I'm not here to spy or scout or fight, either! Tigerstar is my father, and I'm here to join ShadowClan, or TigerClan, whichever one will get me to my father faster."

There was a slightly stunned pause from both the cat on the log and the cat behind. Jaggedtooth later told me he'd never met a ThunderClanner with the same spunk – excepting my father of course. Then, the she-cat trotted out around the trunk. She was a dark ginger color, and very large for a she-cat. "Hey there. Regardless of your status as Tigerstar's daughter, we need to take you back to camp. You can never have too many apprentices in the dens." She stepped forward, flicking her tail slightly, and I was struck again by her size when she was close. Over the next few moons, I can remember occasionally being hit with the realization of her size and power, as she moved with the silence and agility of a much smaller cat. I stepped forward and fell in beside her as she began to walk back to the ShadowClan camp. As we rounded the tree, I heard Jaggedtooth jump to the ground and bound over to her other side. I could not take my eyes off of this she-cat, who knew my father and spoke of him without rancor. She was the first cat I ever knew to do so. "I'm Russetfur," she said, not looking back to me, "And I am one of – your _father's_ senior warriors." And oh, it seems so strange looking back on it now, but that tone of voice, even if it wasn't love, even if it was just plain – courtesy, I suppose? – hit me so hard. This ShadowClan cat – _Russetfur, _I reminded myself – had spoken to me outside of perfunctory introduction and orders and the ever-present whispers and insults of ThunderClan.

"I'm Tawnypaw," I announced. There was a brief pause, as neither Russetfur nor Jaggedtooth seemed intent on conversation. "Do you have an apprentice?" I asked, more out of trying to fill the silence that any maelstrom of emotion at being led back to their camp. Russestfur continued on, and for a moment I thought she had ignored me.

"Yes," she said eventually, "Cedarpaw. He'd be a little older than you right now."

Jaggedtooth purred loudly. "Shame you're leaving ThunderClan, little kit," he meowed, "You've already gotten information on our warriors! Now all you need is to stalk around in the shadows and you'd make as good a spy as any rogue."

"No," I said, trotting forward to meet his gaze, "I'll make as good a spy as any ShadowClan cat!" Jaggedtooth let out a yowl of amusement.

"I really don't think Cedarpaw counts as a warrior yet, Jaggedtooth," said Russetfur, her voice laden with warm humor.

I remember being swallowed in joy during this exchange, ecstatic that these two warriors accepted me as I had never been accepted in my birth Clan, accepted me in spite – or because – of my father. However, looking back? Something inside me breaks, that such a _normal_ thing meant so much. But I guess not a lot of cats spend their time as a kit with whispers of their father the fox-hearted traitor, either. I walked the rest of the way to the camp in a daze, as Russetfur and Jaggedtooth lapsed back into now much more companionable silence. Halfway there, I remember stepping into a puddle – not a big one, it didn't even graze my belly, if I remember right – but I realized that we had been walking thorugh a marsh almost this whole time, and I had grown used to it. I can remember swelling with pride, and the squish of mud, cold and thick and smooth on my pads as it pressed up between my toes the longer I stood in that pond. I want to remember that forever, because that, really, is when I first considered myself a ShadowClan cat, when I first realized how quickly I had become at home in their territory.


	3. The Love He Said He Felt

**A/N: **Here's the new update to The Love My Father Showed! It's also the longest so far. I've decided to extend this story again, because I realized there were scenes I wanted to include that I couldn't fit into one more chapter. So enjoy some more updates! By the way, this chapter picks up right where the last one left off.

Disclaimer: Warrior Cats does not belong to me, in any way, shape, or form.

**The Love He Said He Felt**

We continued in silence for a short while longer, and gradually the ground became drier and firmer beneath my paws. It made sense, really – why in StarClan's name would ShadowClan make their camp in a puddle? After a while, the mixing scent trails of many cats became clear, and I could pick out the intertwined smells of ShadowClan and RiverClan, toms and she-cats, the sick and the healthy. In a way, it was exhilarating, to find this many cats out there, cats who I'd never met, and maybe never would have if I hadn't made this journey. I knew the ShadowClan camp was close, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was until Russetfur came to a sudden stop.

"Here it is," she said, and ducked through a gap in some brambles.

Jaggedtooth nudged me with a paw. "Go on, then," he said, "I'm not going to go in first and have you run off to ThunderClan to tell them all about our territory."

"I wouldn't do that!" I exclaimed, hurt that he would even suggest it. Really, though, in hindsight, he was surprisingly accepting of that strange kit from another Clan who showed up one day to join her father. But I didn't bother to argue with him and followed Russetfur through the gap, as he was a huge, powerful, skilled warrior, and I was barely an apprentice. Brackenfur had told me I was talented at fighting, but I knew that I wasn't that good. Not yet.

When I stepped out, I paused to take in my new surroundings. Every my former clan-mates had told me about the other Clans was that they were different, that there was some vital thing that set us all apart from each other. It didn't necessarily make us _better_, Brackenfur was quick to remind me (why else would we lose battles or go hungry?), but it made us intrinsically different. At first glance, they were right. Where was Highrock, or the Elder's den? But as I looked closer, I could see the apprentices bringing moss to the elders, and the fresh-kill pile lay in the middle of the camp. Over there, a warrior whom I'd never seen before ducked out from a den, and I could see a kit try to escape after him, before its mother snatched it back. The parts were different, but the sum was the same.

After a while, cats nudged each other and looked at me. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but not a strange one – I'd had much the same experience when I was a kit, back in ThunderClan.

I held my head high, and looked right back at them. I was Tigerstar's daughter, and I was here to join them. The presence of Jaggedtooth by my side was a comfort as well, even though it had seemed a threat not so long ago.

"_Tawnykit?_" a voice rang out over the small crowd of ShadowClanners (and RiverClanners, too – I remember a few of them were in the camp that day) who had paused in their daily work to watch me. I turned, and I saw the cat I had come here to find – my father, Tigerstar. He looked so much like Bramblepaw that I could almost understand why Firestar saw him in every move my brother made.

"Father!" I said, earning myself several starts and exclamations of surprise from the surrounding ShadowClanners. "I've come here to join you."

"So Russetfur has told me," he said, his voice rumbling. "You've grown so much since I last saw you."

"Of course I have," I purred, "It's been almost six moons! I'm Tawny_paw_ now."

My father purred in return, and closed the gap between us. "I am proud of you, coming all this way. But where's your brother? Where's Bramblepaw?"

I leaned into him, into the thick tabby fur that smelled familiar, yet strangely alien with the pungent odors of ShadowClan and RiverClan. "Bramblepaw wouldn't come," I told him, "He wanted to stay in ThunderClan with mother."

"What? Do you know more of his reasoning? Would he reconsider if it was _me _that asked him?" My father looked displeased, and it worried me. So soon after my arrival! Of course, he was a leader – he had many duties to worry about, and he was Bramblepaw's father too, so of course he was worried! It was only natural.

"I – I don't know, father," I said, desperate for him to return his attention to me. "He might – after all, you are our father, and we both were treated pretty badly in ThunderClan."

"Good," he said, and turned his gaze downwards to me. "I cannot wait for your brother to join us."

"Neither can I," I replied, "I can't think of a day I didn't see him."

My father purred, deep and loud. "And I'll make sure that stays true, my little Tawnypaw," he told me, "You are my kit, and you have proven your loyalty to me. For that, I will love you – and when Bramblepaw comes with us to TigerClan, I will love him too."

I swelled with pride, blinded by the love that I had longed for all my life, swept away by this stranger I called my father.

"Since you are my daughter," he said, head dipping down to brush my ear, "I will be your mentor. I am Tigerstar, the greatest warrior in all of TigerClan, and you deserve no less."

This was more than I had ever dreamed of. "Thank you," I managed, "Thank you so much."

"I would give you nothing less," he promised, "A cat such as you, with my noble blood, deserves nothing less."

"But what about Bramblepaw?" I meowed. "He's my brother – are you going to mentor both of us?"

My father, Tigerstar, looked startled for the first time. "When that time comes," he said, "Blackfoot will share the duty of mentoring you two with me. He is almost my equal as a warrior."

"Then you love both of us?" I asked, still wondering at this – this unconditional love that I had hoped and dreamed of, and that my father had shown me.

"Of course," he replied as if surprised. "I can love all the cats of the Clans, as long as they offer me their loyalty. You are my children, so there is no question of that. Of course I love you."

I purred, and leaned against him, not caring about the small crowd our reunion had attracted. I had my father. I loved him, and he loved me. All was right with the world, except that nothing was.

**A/N: **Ah, Tawnypelt, why so clueless? Your father only loves you for your loyalty, not because, you know, he actually cares about you. D: Anyway, thanks for reading! There'll be two more chapters after this one, and I should be able to get around to them pretty soon.


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